


The Lady who dreamt of a Fairytale

by Teachou



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: A Court of Thorns and Roses - Freeform, Drama, F/M, Fantasy, Flowers, Freeform, Nature, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Slow Build, a court of mist and fury, a court of wings and ruin - Freeform, fae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teachou/pseuds/Teachou
Summary: Set in the world of AcoTaR after the war, with Nesta and Cassian as main characters. The fanfiction will focus on their relationship and character development, along with a deeper dive into the side-characters of the original trilogy.//The war had claimed many brave souls, from the soldiers who had fought under the rule of those who believed in the justice and freedom for the humanrace, and those who did not. It had resulted in a bloody and dangerous battleground, where the losses had been grave on both parts. The survivors had been heavily influenced, and the victorious had begun to gain a new trust from the humans. It was not the sweet kind of victory you often heard from the hero's tales, unstoppable claws had laid deep marks in many minds. And it would stay there for the rest of their lives, some dealt with it better than others.But no matter what your skin were made of, you were never invulnerable. A certain lady had experienced that, and nothing could seem to soothe her pain. Not before a certain someone made his way into her life.





	1. The Flower who would not Bloom

The sky was in a rich, blue colour which was mirrored in the glittering lakes and rivers. The city, known as Velaris, was decorated with beautiful architecture. It had stonebuildings in light, warm colours which created a happy and cozy atmosphere, and it reflected the population well. It laid protected between forests and mountains, and the clima made it quite easy to plant exotic fruits and different variations of flowers. No one, however, seemed to notice the dark clouds lingering on the horizon. 

In a large window, somewhere in a cottage sat a young fae lady. She was hidden between plants and flowers, which were placed there by one of her lovely sisters. She, however, was quite the contrary. The lady had a gaze cold as the winter ice, and temper hot as wildfire, though she had splendid control. She was not easily likable, and carried nicknames such as «bitch», «hag» and «witch» on her shoulders. Her real name was Nesta, though many prefered to use the colourful choice of nicknames instead. 

She left out a sharp breath as she gazed over the town. The small birds which had sneaked upon her left by the sudden sound. They had in a poor attempt tried to get a piece of her untouched food. Ever since the war, her feeling of being powerless had only increased, while her appetite had done the opposite. She hadn’t left her room for days, and felt an unending frustration tugging at her temper. Nothing could seem to put an end to it. Not that she really had tried. She was filled with many emotions, though she only managed to express few of them. Devastation was one that dominated. She was wrecked by the fact that her father had chosen to help them in the war, only to be murdered right in front of her eyes. He had left her with naught behind, only grief and sorrow. It was a time where she had despised him, and now an unbearable weight crushed down on her. She had not been able to avenge him, not in the kind she wanted to. 

A week had passed since then, and she had embraced the silence in her bedroom to think. Nesta Archeron was not as brave and tough as she perhaps could seem. She was not weak, no not at all, but her iron skin had grown soft spots where sharp spears had frequently hit, to make sure to keep her wounds open. Where was those spears now, though? Her wounds didn't seem to heal, though nothing no longer hurt her. Her shields had vanished in thin air, only to be replaced by anger and other feelings she earlier had shaked off. Now they were overwhelming. 

Occupied with her own thoughts, she didn’t notice that her younger sister had entered the room. Not before her sweet and precious voice called out to her, «Sorry if I’m interrupting..». She turned around to see a carefully smiling, but a slightly cheerful Elain walking up to her with a bouquet in her hands. Freshly, new picked and colourful flowers. Even though she seemed happy, her eyes was filled with despair. Nesta couldn't seem to make herself smile, she only wore only a blank, worn face. Elain had managed to heal better than her. Her garden had kept her both busy and cheered her up. «You are not interrupting anything.» Nesta huffed quietly and took the bouquet. She knew it was Elain’s effort to cheer her up, and it helped a bit. It made her hope lighten up slightly. Neither of her sisters had pushed her to talk the past days, and that had been wise of them. But she felt the need of a difference. Elain’s smile grew a bit, though a worried frown was made when she saw the untouched food. «Dinner will be served in a few hours.», she said quietly. Though Nesta saw her eagerness to talk more, she didn’t. And her sister was soon out of the room. She was again left with her own thoughts. 

Her mind wandered and wandered. What exactly was Velaris to her? When she closed her eyes, she saw a city of sunlight, which were dominated by the glittering stars at night. Plants decorated every corner of the streets, and it was a city of culture, loyality and justice. That was not something she had experienced for herself, it was either spoonfed to her from Feyre and the court, or it was something she had just observed from her window. Nesta decided it was time to get out and explore for herself. She needed to. 

She felt almost dizzy as she walked down the wooden stairs, and it got no better by the surprised faces that met her. She stopped up, and looked at them once as she told them, «I need fresh air.» Feyre, Rhysand and Elain only nodded back at her, still taken aback. The others didn't seem to care much, and Cassian was nowhere to be seen. Nesta took the few steps that was left to reach the door, and walked out of the house. Morrigan's voice was heard mumbling from inside, «Seems like the war was too tough for her.» Nesta felt a fire light up in her, small as a candlelight, though it was quickly blown out by the fresh wind. 

She tipped her head back, and gazed up at the sky. 

The sunlight hit her eyes like bright flames, and it warmed her skin which had become way too used to the cool shadows in her room. It burned, but in a good way. She walked down the streets of cobblestone, listening to the laughing people and the sound of a busy market. Different smells hit her as she passed the shops and cafés. Spices and sweets. It was now that she felt how empty she had become, not in the matter of the exclusive city life she had missed out. No, she had experienced wealth before. She felt empty because of the happiness she had lost, if it had ever been there. The entire city was made upon happiness and love. And that was something she didn’t have the luxurity to embrace. She did love, but her earlier life had formed her into a lady with iron skin. That was not something she could throw away, and it was not by choice. Her whole personality circled around her rough and cold behaviour, only a few slipped through. Who had she become, exactly? 

She was out of place. Everyone bloomed in their brightest colours, yet she did not. No, she had no colour. 

Nesta stopped. Her whole being felt heavy yet empty at the same time. She took a long breath and gazed over to the mountains, which the fog and clouds had slowly creeped upon. Swallowing them. The many voices around her only turned into a noise, and she didn’t notice the one beside her before an arm waved uncomfortably close, straight into her face. She turned around only to see a young boy, trying to sell fruit. «Get away from me.», she said coldly though her face carried no trace of emotions. The boy seemed scared, as he stared into the silvers in her eyes and slowly backed away. Was something wrong with her? Everyone around looked at her, not judgemental, but in question. Nesta did not say anything, instead she stared back at them until their attention was turned elsewhere. The loud voices had turned into whispers, and now they did not seem like noise, because she heard every word that was said. This was no place for her. 

She wandered from the spot to cross the bridges which parted the city. This was a more silent one, as it mainly was a neighborhood. Yet it seemed just as unwelcoming to her as the market squares. She was on her way to the gallery Feyre always boasted over, when a certain dark, but mesmerizing voice broke the silence and caught her attention. It made her body stop. 

Completely frozen, she gazed at the massive male in line of her sight. His broad shoulders and poweful muscles made her heart thunder, both in affection and slightly anxious. She looked at his characteristic long hair, now half of it tied back in a bun. He spoke with someone, but noticed her presence. His hazel brown eyes, which now was painted gold by the sun, met hers. They widened. She looked away immediately. They hadn't seen each other since the war, and he was alive and well. Though she knew, her moments with him which then seemed like their last had sat a mark in her mind. 

«Nesta?», he called out to her. A slight sign of happiness filled his voice, and she wondered how had he survived all these years with wars and still kept that smile on his face. 

Cassian was brave and bold. He would face the most dangerous threats in this world if he had to, and go down fighting or return in victory. Flight would never be an option, and that would probably claim his life one day. She noticed the surprised frown on his beautiful face. What was she even doing? Sitting in her room, daydreaming and thinking, had only made her mind dense. As a defense, she put up that cold, tough mask. 

«Yes?», she answered, and crossed her hands in front of her chest as an attempt to regain her former behaviour. It just felt wrong. 

It was quite a distance between them. Apparently, he had been talking to some blushing girl. She felt a pinch of anger and jealousy, and met Cassians eyes again as he began to walk towards her. 

«How are you feeling?», he asked, looking genuinely concerned and worried. It made her feel guilty, yet a small part of her was still provoked. 

«Why don't you ask that poor girl you just talked with instead? It looks like she's about to pass out.», she threw back at him, though her voice didn't sound as cold and cunning as before, it was filled with jealousy. She lifted her chin in confidence. An annoying glow lit up in his face, along with that stupid, confident smirk. She still saw the remorse lingering in his eyes. Remorse that they couldn't save her father, that they couldn't give the king of Hybern the death he indeed deserved, and that they both had stood no chance against him. 

Nesta couldn't seem to drop down her shields for him again, not yet. The corners of her lips turned upwards, barely a smile, and not one of the good sort. Silver eyes again looked into gold ones. The pure coldness against the sought warmth. 

«I see you have missed me.», he said ironically and added, «Never expected you to be such a jealous lady, Nesta.», The way he sounded, made her blood boil. So, so confident. This would be more than a "friendly" banter, she was in no mood for one either. Her anger grew so rapidly it even terrified her, it made her want to destroy everything. 

«Oh, why would I ever be jealous? If I wanted a gigolo I could just pay the brothel a visit.», She sneered back at Cassian hostile. He took a step back, the towering height he possesed seemed to shrink. It looked like a dagger had just hit him in the back, by the pain that now showed on his face. It was the sort of pain you couldn't hide, the one that striked you when you least expected it. 

Nesta looked away, she was a coward. A coward with no longer control on her mood. She cursed herself, regretting the words right after seeing his heartbreaking reaction. Cassian wasn't her punching bag, she shouldn't treat him like one. Still, she couldn't bring herself to excuse her behaviour. Not now. 

«Nesta.. Is this because of the girl? Because I have done nothing with her. She- » 

«Leave me be.», she interrupted, breaking him off abruptly, then to swiftly walk past him. 

She did not want to look at him, she didn't dare to face what she had done. His face was probably full of sadness, confuse and worry. And yet she found the guts to remain filled with anger and jealousy. She did not deserve him, she did not deserve anyone. Nesta continued on her path, her head still high. She walked past the girl who had spoken to Cassian earlier. The girl only stared at her with daggers in her gaze, as if her mere eyes could kill. 

~~~~ ~~~~ 

She had ended up finding a high place hidden away. A garden which had not been tended for long. There she sat, staring up at the dark sky again, which now were filled with heavy clouds. The sun long gone. She had no count for how long she had been there, but midnight was close. 

Her gaze shifted down to the town and the market. The merchants were packing away their stands, and closing their shops. The folk was slowly disappearing, to find shelter from the storm which crept upon them. Then the first drops fell. Feeling like a cold, silk tear against her skin. 

And after a few minutes, the rain were heavy like waterfall, and hitting every surface like arrows straight from the sky. 

Nesta raised up from the wooden, old bench she sat on and walked towards their home, even though that wasn't exactly what she would call it. Behind her back, she heard the thunder roar in warning. That it soon would come and unleash its spears down on the city. 

When she got back to the house, her clothes was completely soaked. She stepped inside, letting out a low sigh. It was completely dark, and everyone had retreated to their rooms or gone somewhere. Azriel and Morrigan had assumely gone back to their own home. 

Smell of food still hung in the air, even though they had eaten dinner some time ago. 

She was hungry, or more correctly: she was starving. Her stomach made a rumbling sound which almost dominated the thunder that had closed upon Velaris. Nesta entered the kitchen, and found nothing else than fruits and biscuits to eat. She regret going outside, it would been far much better to stay here until her mind was completely clear. If it ever would be. 

Silently, she sneaked up the stairs and into her own bedroom. Nesta did not bother to get out of her wet clothes, and threw herself on the bed. She laid there like a seastar while she gazed into the dark nowhere. The lightning lit up the bedroom now and then. Quickly followed by loud, wrecking noise which made the walls shake. 

She watched the light play on the wall, creating a artwork in front of her. Which disappeared and emerged. A white window with black plants. 

She then closed her eyes. As she could hear low music play from other places. Violins, drums and harps. They whispered in her ears a tale she did not want to hear. She had heard it before. The human version had told a story of the shadows in the forest. Of those who came while you were asleep. And if you dared to be awake, you would be eaten up whole by those who had pointy ears and a heartless, terrifying grin. Who would ensure you a death filled with agony and horror. 

A rumbling sound suddenly ripped away the music. 

She opened her eyes in fear. That was no thunder. Slow and frightened she looked towards the wall, and when the lightning struck again. She saw a silhouette standing in the window. Before she could even dare to do anything, a hand covered her mouth. She was then pinned down by a body. 

«How dare you?!», A snarl roared. So loud that her ears hurt. The voice was completely non-human, she would also state non-fae if she hadn't ever experienced the terrors of the war. 

Golden locks fell into her face, and she saw a red mouth formed in disgust and fury. She knew who it was. Nesta tried to struggle. To tear her away with all of her strenght, but to no avail. She was facing someone with decades of experience in combat. «If it weren't for you sister, I would have ripped you apart long ago.», she spat at her, digging her nails into her porcelain skin. Making her bleed. Nesta tried to scream. To roar. But the hand on her mouth held so strong that not even a breath escaped. So instead, she fought back. Tried to, atleast. She grabbed her arms and pinched, hard. Only to be struck in the face even harder by a fist to the left side, and then to the right side. 

«I have always wanted to do that.», her voice purred, seemed slightly satisfied, yet angry. She heard a terrifying chuckle, which sent chills down her back. Then the hand on her mouth was removed, and before she could speak a word a threat were thrown in her face. «If you dare to scream, I'll make that face of yours unrecognizable.» 

Nesta did her best to shove away the fear. «You would never get away with it.», she merely breathed back. 

A laugh met her, «Is that a bet?» 

In all her disgrace, Nesta shook her head. 

Her hair was grabbed violently, throwing her head back. «Never do that to Cassian again.», a final sneer met her before she was freed and the silhouette moved towards the window. Revealing her whole face. 

Nesta shoved herself up, struggling as her arms were shaking. , «Why are you babysitting him, is he unable to defend himself?», she roared back. She had always been jealous of their relationship. The silhouette, Morrigan, looked over her shoulder and back at the miserable Nesta. Luckily, she didn't rip off her head, not yet. Instead she faced the weather outside, and answered. «Have you no idea of what you mean to him? Of what's between you? Did your brain vanish in the cauldron, perhaps?» 

«I do not care how you have suffered. We all have. Yet you are one of the most disrespectful persons I have ever met. No need in acting all high and mighty, Nesta. If your only method of surviving your grief is by attacking the ones that love you, then I will gladly watch you fall. I know people who don't, though, so I suggest you find another one.», she was about to vanish out of the window when she turned around the last time. Morrigan fished out something of her pocket and tossed it at Nesta. A salve. «Use that on your face.», she said coldly and was gone within the next second. 

Nesta exhiled a long breath, which she didn't know how long she had held. She gazed to the spot were Morrigan a few secounds ago and let herself fall back in the bed. Feeling the fear slowly reduce, while her guilt increased. Small tears fell down her wound cheeks, and she didn't know how long it took, but sometime in the middle of the night she fell into a light sleep. Her awareness not letting her into a deep slumber. 

~~~~ ~~~~ 

She woke up early in the next morning, though everything that had happened the past night had only seemed like a dream, she felt the proof that it was not. Her whole face was sore, and when she looked in the mirror in her room she got the real proof. Blue and yellow traces was painted on her skin, and she had deep, red scratch marks down her arms. 

Quickly, before anyone could possibly think of knocking on her door she tried to find cosmetics to cover the bruises. Though what she found was only a bottle that was nearly used up already. 

Nesta cursed herself. She could not let anyone see those marks, and she would absolutely not tell the truth to Feyre or anyone. 

Oh, how was she to survive this day?


	2. A Dance on Thorns

Her light porcelain skin hid nothing; the bruises and marks shone in their heaviest colours. As if they were painted on a white canvas. What was she to do? She had no cosmetics to cover them with, and she did not want to face the fate that awaited her down stairs.  


Nesta could already imagine their reactions. Shocked faces and stuttered words, and among them all; hidden, red lips shaped in a silent, cunning grin.  


Two of the few choices she had was to use the salve she was given, or stay inside the whole day. Both of them were driven by a sense of self-pity and defeat. Perhaps that was how she had become? 

She gazed at her window. The lovely flowers looked away from her, and faced the warm sun. 

Nesta sighed quietly and walked to the bathroom. She took a piece of a lilac cloth and showered it in ice cold water before applying it on her face. It felt good, even though it sent shivers down her back. Her face looked so, so horrible. Still, she would not bring herself to use the salve, so she threw it away. She had too much pride.  


«Breakfast ready!», Feyre's voice called carefully from downstairs.  


Breakfast already? She felt her stomach turn from the anxiety from the past events, and hunger, especially hunger. She had no choice, but to open the door, and slowly walk out. She would starve to death if she continued to skip her meals. Nesta gathered her emotions and locked them away before she walked down, as they would only be a distraction and nuisance.  


She took a deep breath and counted to ten, before she managed to move herself down the stairs. The group had been talking, but grew silent as they heard her steps. A voice in her head told her to run back and lock herself inside her room, but Nesta fought away the urge with all her might, and stared down at the stairs and floor until she got down. She could already feel their stares.  


It took a few seconds before she dared to look at them.  


Feyre, Elain, Azriel, Amren and Rhysand. There was no red lips, no golden locks. Thank the gods. Still, all of them looked at her like she had lost her head, but the relief washed away the other feelings. Feyre was walking towards her, but all she could think about was that Morrigan wasn't here, and not Cass-  


«What happened to you?!», a voice snarled from her left side, the roaring surprising her enough to jump a bit. The fear slowly crept back. She knew it was him, before she could even see his golden eyes and dark, shoulder lenght locks. He moved quickly out of the kitchen and grabbed her arms before she could possibly think of sneaking away. She still tried, though he wouldn't budge at all.  
She was so, so stupid to not use the salve.  


Nesta calmed herself down, and tried her best to look at Cassian, into his eyes. Though it did not help, «It does not regard you.», she answered irritated, and tried to shake him off again.  
«Say that again.», his voice deepened, almost threatening, were it not for the concerned frown mixed with his angry face. His face which were only a few centimeters from hers. .  


Feyre almost pushed Cassian away as she reached her. Nesta felt a bit of guilt, though it quickly was gone when she saw the furios look he gave Feyre. He had never done something like that. Luckily, neither Feyre og Rhysand seemed to notice, as their attention was on her. «Are you fine?», her sister asked, deeply worried. Elain looked like she was about to cry.  


«Yes, I am. I...just fell.»  


A lie, and they all knew. The awkward silence made it obvious. She knew her sisters would drag her aside for questioning after breakfast anyway, and it looked like Cassian wouldn't let her off easily either as he stared her down. Rhysand and Azriel was quick to drag him along to the breakfast table, as Feyre and Elain did with her. 

 

The wooden dinner-table was full with plenty of food. Different fruits, juices and freshly baked bakewares that was made by Elain herself, along with assistance of Nuala and Cerridwen. Not surprisingly, it made Nesta's poor stomach growl loud enough that a red glow almost dominated the yellow and blue marks on her cheeks.  


«You haven't been eating for days.», Elain responded, concerned of the sound. Stating facts as she indeed had observed her untouched plates the past days. «I won't let you off without doing so now.», Feyre said with a careful smile and filled Nesta's cup with a tea she favored. Apple with a twist of cinnamon, along with a small portion of honey.  


She only snorted in response, and began stuffing herself with the food. It was not that her appetite had increased much, but her whole body stung with the loss.  


It was quite silent around the table. Amren, Azriel and Elain had their own mumbling conversation, while Feyre and Rhysand talked quietly. Nesta didn't bother to try to involve herself. Instead, she drank her tea and gazed at a painting that hang on the wall across of her. It pictured a sky in a light shade of azure, and mountains which had a deep, rich blue colour. In front of them was a wineyard framed by the green forest. She wanted to go there, to this place in the dark, wooden frames.  


If it ever would exist a place where she would fit in.  


Nesta sighed quietly, though it seemed to catch someones attention. A pair of eyes stared at her. She looked in front of her again, but not at the wall, no- lower. At the person sitting right in front of her. At Cassian. He continuously stared at her with that piercing gaze, surprisingly sharp in contrast to his usual lazy, sweet gaze. Cassian did not flinch away as her silver eyes again met his honey coloured ones. Instead they narrowed, as he leant forward, closer, and placed his big, muscular arms on the table to support his upper body weight. If she hadn't known his abilities, she would have suspected he was reading her mind.  


Which suddenly made her aware of Rhysand and Feyre's abilities, though they wouldn't do so. No, she could not get paranoid.  
She did not dear move her stare from Cassian. No matter how much she wanted. It would only lead to more questions, since she never gave up. Not even a pathetic stare contest like this, which the others quickly noticed.  


«Seems like you two have unsolved matters, shall we leave you alone?», Rhysand purred. Enjoying the awkward atmosphere.  


Nesta quickly shot up from her chair. She did absolutely not want to be alone with Cassian. Not yet. «I have to talk with my sisters.», she said as fast as possible, ignoring the angry grunt she received by Cassian. Her eyes shot to Feyre and Elain, which simply nodded and followed her out of the kitchen. She realized she had no idea of what she should tell them.  


«Come, we can go sit in the garden.», Elain said quietly and took her hand, leading them both out to her favorite spot. She knew it would calm her. 

 

It was not a large garden, though it was definitely one of the most beautiful she had ever seen. Roses in different colours climbed the tall stone walls of the house, and two large rhododenderons in strong, warm colours bloomed in the corners. There was so many flowers, and she couldn't name them all.  


They sat down on a carved bench, and listened to the sound of the river that ran behind the fences.  


«You worry me. How did you get those bruises?», Feyre bursted out, breaking the silence with words she probably had restrained far too long. She looked at her sisters, both of them carried the same worried frown.  


Then she gazed at the climbing roses, their torns. «I met someone.», she answered.  


Elain took her hand in hers again, «You have to tell us who it was.»,  


«It's no use.», Nesta mumbled, «It won't happen again.», or that's what she hoped atleast.  


«You have to tell me. We can't let any danger wander in the city.», Feyre sounded so much more serious than Elain, and she couldn't blame her. It looked like Nesta had been attacked after all, which she had been, just not by an unknown criminal.  


«It's no danger.», she spoke back, a hint of annoyance lingering in her voice. She began to grow slightly irritated, though she knew they just wanted to protect her. Elain furrowed her brows and spoke gently, «Then why did you want to speak with us, if it's not something that bothers you?»  


Oh, she felt like total garbage. Her main reason for dragging them along was only to avoid Cassian. But no, she could absolutely not say that. So she spoke the other truth.  
«I just wanted to clarify to you that I'm fine.»  


Feyre sighed deeply, obiviously distressed and confused. «If there is something, you can always rely on us. You know that, Nesta.»,  


Nesta nodded in response, .«I will.», she mumbled. Feyre spoke again, «Atleast I know something like that won't happen again. Cassian won't let you out of his sight now, and I guess you'll go through another questioning round before you're free.», she spoke slightly teasingly and winked, though it was in a attempt to persuade and agitate her. She knew that very well, and it was a cruel weapon.  
«I suggest you tell us-»  


Before Feyre could finish her sentence, Nesta interrupted her with a huff. Which had become a bad habit the past days. She had grown so inpatient and spontaneous. «It was Morrigan.», she murmured quietly.  


They both gaped in response, Feyre looked like she was about to go hunt the warmaiden down. «But don't you dare tell Cassian.», Nesta snapped quickly afterwards.  


«Do you want me to do something about it at all?», Feyre asked.  


Nesta shook her head. She knew Feyre and Elain would stay loyal to her, so when she got up from the bench a small weight of her heavy ghost pauldrons was lifted off her shoulders.  


«Nesta.», Feyre said at last, stopping her from leaving just yet. «We are invited to a party tomorrow evening. Do you want to join us?» She knew the unspoken words beneath her question, which her sister did not dare to tell her, 'Go out and get your mind on something else'.  


Perhaps it would be good for her to get some fun though, some diversion. «I'll think about it.», she merely answered her sister before she left them. Drifting towards the house again.  


Her tired eyes looked at the mountains in the distance. Mist and darkness still haunted them.  


She turned, and went down the streets. To solve unfinished matters. 

~~  


Candlelights with sweet scents was the only light source in the living room. The smell was too sweet for his preference, but it was survivable. The shadows dancing by their light, however, were not. Faces flickered across them, shrieking and crying in agony. They had haunted him forever. Every lost friend, forgotten by many but him. Though a new face seemed to haunt him too. A certain fae. Her hair like golden copper and eyes cold as the bitter ice. 

Cassian had waited and waited, for her to enter the door she had left hours ago. Feyre had only told that she had seen her in the garden earlier. He knew very well Nesta was ignoring him, she had grown quite distant to the whole court. It worried him deeply, though he didn't know what to do. She was a rare and difficult character, a special one. 

The night had crept upon the sky, dim stars were slowly lighting up the very dark canvas. The mountains long gone, and the varm lights of Velaris lit up the lonely streets. He gazed out of the large windows, looking for her slim frame, which would usually be dressed in lovely dresses. She was nowhere to be seen. It was no wonder why she had such an unending sorrow filling her heart, but where had she received those bruises? Nesta had been a stubborn lady, with a temper hot as fire, but her daggers had become worn and dulled. She would not put up a fight, not anymore. 

Cassian stood up from the coach, his worry bothered him too much. If she was out there all alone, it was possible that she could face whatever that had harmed her before. His instincts begged him to go look for her, and he couldn't fight them no more. So he went out the door, and down the streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for late update and short chapter, I'll try to continue on this fanfic when I get more time! :) Hope you enjoyed it though.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second fanfiction, and my first in this fandom, so I apologize if it's lacking in any way. English is not my native language, as I'm from Norway, but don't be afraid to leave behind a comment of what you think I should do better! :)  
> If you find the fanfiction interesting, I will also be glad to know. 
> 
> Thank you for reading the chapter! <3


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